Scarlet

Rob

Chapter 12

She's hiding something. I know it. There's something she's not telling me, on the way back she looked like she was going to either cry or scream. I wish I knew what she was thinking, I might have been able to help her. I worry she doesn't trust me. She won't tell me much, although she has told me bits and pieces.

I don't know where she was born, or who her parents are. I found her in London. I had thought that she was a boy, and had called her Mr. Scarlet from the ribbons she had on her knives. After I figured out that she was a girl, I called her Scarlet.

I just wish I knew what she was thinking, what hurt her so bad, what pushed her to the point she's at now. Why she became an outlaw.

I wish I knew why she won't cut her hair, how she got so good with her knives. Why she seemed so nervous about Gisbourne coming to town.

Most of all, I want to know how she got her scar. She won't tell me a thing about it. I can't help but keep thinking back to our conversation, about how I had asked her if she would open up if it would save me. I wish she had said yes, I would do anything for her. But I can't expect that out of her.

All I know about her is this---She has had a run in of some kind with Gisbourne, no matter how much she denies it.
She is incredible with knives.
She won't cut her hair.
There is someone e she left behind and feel a terrible about.
She has a haunted past.
She is cold, kind, tough as nails, amazing at planning, and is an incredibly thief.
She is also the bravest person I've ever met, and that's saying something.
And.....the most beautiful, although it's a fierce kind of beauty. One that no one ever notices.

But I do.

I risk a glance up at her. She is so beautiful, one short little strand of dark hair escaping her hair, her cut still bleeding, just barely. Dried blood on her cheek. I suddenly remember something. I needed to make sure she wasn't hurt. I take a deep breath, and hesitantly ask her "Would you like me to check you for injuries? You don't need to get your cuts infected."

She thinks fir a moment, then nods. I take her hand, and led her back to a smaller cave, more private. One that no one will be able to see her. I ask her

"Would you mind taking your shirt off? Do you have...your...umm....you know...covered?" I ask her, hopefully not blushing but feeling my cheeks heat up. She blushes, but nods.

I carefully unbuckle her weapons belt, take off her vest, and unlace her shirt. I take the hem, and glance for her approval. Again, she nods, and I slowly, carefully, take off her shirt.

The cut I see on her side nearly makes my heart stop.

it's big, bloody, and looks painful.

I notice that she has some sort of strip of linen tied tight around her chest, keeping her covered, but smashing her flat so she looks like a boy. but I'm more focused on her cut.

I get a piece of wet cloth, and start to carefully clean the blood off. I see that while it is a long cut, it's not deep enough to have injured her seriously. I am worried about how thin she is. I can see her ribs, Like they are obvious and I can see the edges of her hip bones through her pants since there is no shirt.

I start to wonder....has she really been eating more? After I met her in London, when she hadn't eaten a thing for weeks, I got her fed, and swore to myself that I would do whatever I could to keep that from happening again. I decide to not grill her about it now, later would work. I need to take care of her cut.

I carefully wipe the blood off, and thanks God, it's not deep. but because of how thin she is, I can see her rib bone, because there is no fat or anything there. it's actually scary how thin she is. I think that this cut will need stitches.

"Scar...I think this needs stitches."

"No."

"Yes."

"I said no!!"

"And I said yes! Now take a deep breath, close our eyes, and get ready."

I take a deep breath, thread the needle, put a mug of beer next to her to dull the pain, and I started to sew.

Just keep going.

In, out. In, out.

After what felt like a million years, I got to the end of her cut, and tied the thread off. I glanced over at her, and saw her jaw clenched and eyes squeezed shut.

"Scar?" I whisper.

No response.

I realize that she's shaking.

I lay a blanket over her, then sit down. Suddenly, I see movement. Her eyelids flutter a bit.

Thank God. I was afraid that she wouldn't wake up.

In her sleep, I heard her mutter "Rob.....Rob." What? Whys she saying my name in her sleep? As long as it's a good dream, I like that she's dreaming about me.

Suddenly, she lets out a silent scream, and whispers "Rob! Go! I'm not worth it....I'll die but please leave me!" She cries out. "Your life is worth 12 of mine. Just go. I'll do everything I can to get away. But I won't fight if you stay. Just leave.....get to safety." Her arm draws back, like she's throwing a knife.

What the Hell is wrong with her? Why is she dreaming this? Is she captured? I decide to wake her up, and I gently shake her. She just flinched, and punches me. I flinch, and curse. I can already feel my shoulder brushing. I whisper yell her name, and shake her. Her eyes fly open, and she's breathing heavy.

As she calms down, her breathing slows, but her eyes still look wild, like she's trapped.

"Scar, what were you dreaming about?"

A/N So, how was it? Here's your Christmas present....I'll update soon, sorry about the wait. Don't own any of the Characters but Dave. Plots mine though. Thanks for reading! also, do you want Rob again, Scar, a mix, or what? please let me know! thanks